


A Saturday Night

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M, Mavin, cute fluff sorta stuff, minor spoilers for halo: reach, video game boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 02:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4373879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there was any way Michael expected to spend his Saturday night, it definitely wasn’t with an inebriated, giggling Gavin in his lap trying to play Halo: Reach with the controller upside-down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Saturday Night

If there was any way Michael expected to spend his Saturday night, it definitely wasn’t with an inebriated, giggling Gavin in his lap trying to play Halo: Reach with the controller upside-down. _Though_ , he thought as he laughed brashly when Gavin sputtered out a series of surprised squeaks as his dead character flipped cartwheels through anti-gravity, if he expected anything different from this dumbass and his slurred, nonsensical words, then he was just as stupid as the Englishman himself.

    Though Michael was used to the fact that Gavin seemed to be oblivious to the concept of personal space even _when_ sober and was resigned to the idea that he might just have the most inconvenient and most overwhelming crush on his best friend, Michael couldn’t help but be hyper-aware of Gavin’s warmth and the way his heart seemed to skip a beat every time his best friend stared at him for a moment too long or pressed his head against Michael’s shoulder before straightening up when the cutscene ended.

    Perhaps Gavin wasn’t the only one who had had a few too many beers.

    _I can’t wait to see the stupid fucking look on his face when Jorge dies_ , he thought with a smug look, laughing when Gavin jetpacked away from a suicide grunt with a squeal only to land right in front of an elite that kicked him right in the face. Even if Gavin was possibly the worst person at Halo that Michael had ever met - especially when he’d had a bit of alcohol in his system - he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t amusing to watch his failures. He made a mental note to do a Halo Rage Quit with Gavin later when the Brit made a pouty face at him.

    When the screen faded to black when Gavin finally managed to clear out all the enemies in the room, Gavin turned to Michael and grinned, and damn him if that dopey smile and those hazy green eyes didn’t draw Michael in like nothing else could. It was all the Jersey man could do to not pull the Brit closer. Instead, he dug his fingers into the couch cushions and forced a friendly, uncaring smile on his face back at Gavin.

    His best friend seemed to be having none of Michael’s stiff posture and attitude, however, and all of the resolve that Michael had built up crumbled and fell down around him when Gavin innocently pulled one of his hands away from the couch and brought it up to his lips with that same stupid grin.

    And in that next moment, there were no second thoughts, no consequences, and certainly no caution; there was only Michael and Gavin and the sharp inhale of air the Brit made when Michael pressed their lips together roughly, the controller falling to the floor.

    When he received no response from Gavin for a few seconds, he pulled away, his heart in his stomach and his hands - which had been gripping the fabric of Gavin’s shirt - shaking as they reached for the abandoned controller so he could distract himself with something other than the sting of rejection that he could feel as painfully as a real wound. He was startled out of his self-pity when the controller was knocked out of his hands back onto the floor and he was shoved into the back of the couch. He was barely given time to process the fact that Gavin was straddling him before he felt the softness of the Brit’s lips again on his.

    People - well, the authors of the romance books he read (shut the fuck up it’s not girly it’s a literature preference) - always talked about seeing fireworks or stars whenever they kissed someone after craving their touch for so long, but this? This was something different, something a thousand times better in comparison. This was the feeling of flying, of soaring high above Cloud Nine. When Gavin’s fingers were trailing through his hair and his lips were moving against his, Michael felt that if he jumped from the roof of his apartment complex, he might never touch the ground.

    “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” Gavin mumbled hoarsely when they finally pulled apart, traces of a grin imminent on his face as he ghosted his fingers along Michael’s jaw. Michael chuckled quietly, running his thumb across Gavin’s lips before pressing a short, close-mouthed kiss to his mouth as an afterthought. Gavin smiled, his eyes shut.

    “No, I think I do,” Michael said, pressing their foreheads together. They stayed like that for a moment, until a quiet _boom!_ erupted from the TV and Michael smirked. Gavin had paid no mind to the sounds of the cutscene, but Michael knew just what the noise meant.

    “Hey, Gavvy?” Michael whispered in his ear, smirking when it sent a shiver down Gavin’s spine.

    “Yeah, Mikey?”

    “Jorge just died.”

    And if the horrified squeak and the urgency in which Gavin snapped his eyes open and leaped off of Michael’s lap to retrieve the controller wasn’t hilarious as fuck, Michael didn’t know what was.


End file.
